


Bleary Eyes

by Trashball (orphan_account)



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Abuse, Angst, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2016-05-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 05:45:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6788104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/Trashball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I saw him first through bleary eyes."<br/>A fanfic in which Hinata's a mess. To be honest. </p><p>***<br/>(FYI: Kamukura and Hinata are brothers in this and therefore different people. Just to ease up any confusion.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bleary Eyes

**Author's Note:**

> ah yes. bby's first fanfic.  
> word of warning: this may suck bc (a) i have not proof-read this???? (b) i dont have this all planned/plotted out (bc whenever i do that i never get it published lmao!) and (c) like i said bby's first fanfic. fyi i rlly suck at relationships and plot so you gotta deal with that kids LMAO. ALSO!!! the rating might go tf up as this progresses.

I saw him first through bleary eyes.

Well, in all honesty, at first? At first I didn't even register his presence: I was crying harder than I'd like to admit. Caught up in my own emotions I never even noticed the ever so noticeable boy, with his stark white hair and his inappropriately warm winter coat. Instead, he was the one that came over to me. 

And in fact, to be perfectly precise, I heard him before I saw him. Despite my noisy sobs, I heard the crackle of footsteps as someone moved over, walking across the wet pebbles; I heard him get closer and closer, and I felt the rising, uncomfortable tension as he did so. 

“Ah... Are you okay?”

His voice was soft and breathy – as if he'd ran over here, rather than shuffled awkwardly. Clearly, he wasn't entirely sure what to do with me; and, when I realised that, I felt my (which was already blotchy with tears, mind you) face heat up with embarrassment. Suddenly I was acutely self-conscious of how much of a disaster I must look, kneeling here by the riverside, whilst I cried a river of my own. In fact – shit, this was bloody humiliating, wasn't it?

Feebly attempting to calm myself down, I rubbed away at my face, and pointed myself directly away from the stranger, trying to block him out.

“S-Sod off,” I managed and it came out as pathetically as one would expect. The last thing I wanted was for someone to see my in this appalling state, nevermind for that someone to be a stranger. Sure, he was simply doing what was right, and what any old person would do in this situation, but I still resented his ass for it. I wanted him gone, and I didn't want to have to deal with him, and in all honesty I didn't want to have to deal with anything right now, and all I wanted was to curl up by this riverside and -

A hand was on my shoulder. It was bony. Cold. Yet, despite that, and despite the fact I wanted to be so alone right now, it was oddly comforting. And that's when I finally turned to look at him face on; that's when I finally saw him, and finally looked at him properly.

He was pale. No, not just that – he was deathly pale, almost pure white, but his hair was even whiter. Like the clouds on a summer's day, it seemed to be weightless and I found myself absolutely transfixed, my watery eyes staring up in sudden wonder; until, of course, I realised how rude that was, and quickly blinked it away and looked at him instead. Pale green eyes stared back at me, full of concern, and although they weren't as mesmerising as the rest of him, I found myself staring back.

I realised, after a moment, my sobs had ebbed away to sniffles.

Wiping my eyes, I swallowed, trying to compose myself, my emotional upset quickly dissipating and dissolving into shame. God, god – this was so bloody embarrassing and I could feel myself cringing. Never did I ever let myself be so openly upset like this – not in front of anyone, at least. That's why I came here. This riverside was supposed to be my sanctuary: it was the quiet place, and no one else ever came here but me. At least, I'd never seen anyone here. 

Until now that is. Until this guy had appeared before me. Why was he here? And that wasn't a question of why he was here by this riverside, but also a question of why he was still here? Why was his hand still on my shoulder? And why was he still staring at me like that. I told him to sod off, didn't I? 

“Ah...,” he sighed, still softly. Not only was his presence soothing, but so was his voice, I realised. “If you really want me to, I can leave. I would understand if you didn't want me around,” he murmured, as if speaking any louder would scare me away, “but, if you need anything, I'm here. I will help you. I'll lay down my life, if you want me to.”

Lay down his life...? Jesus Christ. For the first time, I was unnerved, slightly, his soothing presence dented by his eccentric phrasing. Swallowing, I found myself naturally withdrawing from him, shaking his hand from my shoulder. “You don't.... You don't,” I stammered out, but my words failed me; I was exhausted. I was absolutely exhausted and well and truly tired and I had no words to offer him. I sighed, softly, closing my eyes. I don't know what I wanted, in all honesty, and him asking me was a fruitless endeavour. Right now, it hurt to think. It hurt to exist, for god's sake. It all hurt so badly, and I felt myself breathing rapidly again, the sobs starting to build up in my chest, as I felt the hopelessness overwhelming me, because I didn't know what I wanted and I didn't know who he was and I didn't know what to do and-

He was pulling away. He was standing up. He seemed to have decided that I wanted him to truly “sod off” as I had so eloquently put it earlier. He was turning. I could hear him starting to walk again.

That's when I decided I didn't want him to leave.

“Wait! No, no – stop.” I remember being on autopilot: my mouth and legs moving of their own accord, in a desperate attempt to get the stranger to stay. I didn't care what I looked like, now; I didn't care that my knees were filthy and wet from kneeling; I didn't care for anything, except ensuring that he stayed here, with me. I don't know why. There was just this primal urge within me, telling me to get him to come back, to make him stay – anything to make sure he doesn't leave, because I didn't want to be alone even though I thought I did. I didn't want to be abandoned like that.

And it worked. The boy stopped and turned back again, casting me a surprised yet curious look. One that was also expecting. He was expecting me to do something – to continue, to ask of something. Oh, God. Oh shit.

“I... I don't want you to... Go.” The words were tumbling out now in an inexcusable mess and I found myself desperately fighting off tears once again. “P-please? Stay, will you? Or let me come with you, or something. Just please don't leave me here alone. I can't stand it – I can't stand that or the thought of that or anything.” And wow. I felt my face heating up once again, my cheeks blossoming in a humiliated shade of vermilion. Christ... What was I doing? What was I-

“You... Want me? You want to come with me?” Oddly enough, there was no discomfort in his voice: there was no disgust nor any awkwardness or unsurety or anything of the sort – which is what I anticipated, given my desperately clingy outbreak, and considering we're practically strangers. No. Instead he seemed surprised – like he was shocked that I would want to go with him. Which was also understandable, I figured, but I was still expecting him to sneer at me or to push me over or to laugh in my face or to-

“I mean! Yes, sure, of course,” he said, quickly, cutting off my train of thought; he probably saw me beginning to panic again. Again, that was embarrassing. That was deeply embarrassing. And I was flushing again – that is, if I even stopped flushing in the first place. Fucking hell. Biting down on my lip, I awkwardly stood there, as he cautiously made his way over to me. “Apologies. I didn't mean to startle you – I mean, I'm just so surprised you'd want to be around trash like me. It's rather alarming,” he smiled, and he was so tender, the way he gingerly stepped forth despite the jarringly self-deprecating language he used,” but please. If you need somewhere to go or if you need someone to be with, I don't mind. Honestly, you're fine to stay with me, ah...” 

He trailed off, just as he stopped a safe and comfortable distance away from me. “And apologies, ah, apologies once again. Sorry if this is intrusive or something, but please may I ask what your name is? It's fine if you don't want me to know. Totally understandable. You can bask in anonymity all you want. I'm fine with it, you know, it's totally unimportant-”

“It's Hinata,” I stammered out, cutting his rambling off this time. Once again, I was beginning to feel mildly disturbed with his words – there was this underlying peculiarity in his tone and his voice, with the way he kept constantly dismissing himself and apologising and in all honesty I was starting to feel unnerved by it. “A-and p-please,” I mumbled out, awkwardly, “if you really don't mind I... I would like to come with you. I guess. I mean, shit... Sorry, that's so weird.”

“Oh, I assure you: it's fine, it's fine,” he dismissed me, quickly. “In fact, it's an honour to have someone so willingly want to be with me-” and there he went again, adopting that tone once more, “-and I genuinely don't mind, I promise! It's completely fine, I swear, Hinata-kun.” 

Part of me squirmed when he instinctively added the honorific onto my name, but equally I didn't want to break the wildly intense smile on his face, especially considering how thoughtful and kind he was being towards me. Taking a deep breath I, despite knowing it was so wrong of me to impose (I mean, it seemed he'd let me murder him if I asked nicely) and to go home with this guy, felt myself nodding. 

“I... Fine, then,” I let out, awkwardly, breathing deeply. “I mean again, if you're really sure- ah-”

Once again, I was surprised by his hand; cold, and skeletal, it clasped around my own, which was much warmer and softer in comparison. An unperturbed smile clouded my vision, a heavenly white halo of hair framing the soft features before me. Somehow he smiled wider, a gentle chuckle reverberating in his throat, as he closed his eyes and cocked his head.

“Like I said: I'm absolutely certain, Hinata-kun. Let's go.”

***

Neither of us let go of each other's hand all the way to his car.

The riverside was generally uninhabited for a reason – it was relatively remote, and the only way there was via relatively wild woodland. Hence why I was initially so surprised by his presence. Either way, it's quite a walk from there to his car, but such a walk offers the opportunity for conversation. 

I learn that his name his Komaeda Nagito. He lives alone. He's the same age as me. 

Then again, despite that, the majority of our walk is spent in silence – which, at first seems heavy and awkward, but gradually it grows comforting and I'm thankful for it. After all, I'm not quite ready to speak at length yet; my voice is still hoarse and shaky, and I'm sure that if I tried to form coherent sentences I would end up spiralling into emotional hell once again. 

Besides, there's something about his... Presence that comforts me. Knowing that he's there, beside me, holding my hand helps - and hell, that sounds so incredibly cheesy and ridiculous, especially seeing as he's a total stranger, but it's true. Somehow he emits this weird, soothing aura and I find that, in the prolonged silence, it manifests: it grows only stronger, and I wonder how much better I would feel if I stayed with him for the rest of today like this, which only poses the question-

What are we going to do after this? 

I didn't think this through. Earlier, I was upset, and just blurted out that I wanted to go home with him: but, after that, what do we do? Do I stay there? Do I leave? When do I leave? In all honesty, I don't want to have to go; I don't want to have to go back home, not back there. Swallowing, I try to suppress that notion as hard as I can, but it must be evident on my face as he turns towards me, a worrisome glint lighting up his eyes.

“Ah, are you okay, Hinata-kun?” A shiver runs down my spine every time he says my name – which is bad, because he seems to pepper every sentence with it. “Do you regret this? I mean, if you want, you don't have to go with me: I'm perfectly fine driving you back home-”

“No!” I say it too suddenly; I say it too loudly. Shit. Fuck. Shit. Shit. Fuck. Blushing again, I quickly try to correct my mistake, hurrying as I explain, “no – no, it's fine. I'm fine. I don't. I'm just... Thinking, y'know,” I mumble, as he lets go of my hand at long last, to open his (or what I'm assuming is his) car door for me to get in. 

When I do, I'm taken aback slightly by how... Luxurious it is. Shit – was he rich, too? Whilst I wasn't a car expert, the plush chairs and the elegance of the interior made it screamingly obvious how expensive this thing was, and now I felt even worse about imposing; it was like I was scrounging off him or something. Fuck. Maybe I should take it back and say that I do want to go home, and get him to drop me off some place far away, because, God, I'm iterating this for the millionth time, but this is so embarrassing and I am absolutely humiliated and-

Again. There it was again. A hand on mine. I only realised I was clenching the arm rest, when I felt its presence and I found myself taking a deep breath. Thank God he was here. Thank God this weird stranger – no, Thank God Komaeda – was here. Somehow, I saw understanding in those plain green eyes of his. “It's fine,” he said, lightly, his melodic voice humming away, “you don't have to do anything; you don't have to go anywhere. It's all okay. Please, just relax for me, Hinata-kun.” 

Obeying his command, I felt the tension ease up in my whole body; I began to relax, as difficult as it was to do so, and felt myself beginning to ease up. Which was fine. Everything here was fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. Fine. I found my eyes closing, shutting off the visual elements of the world, as I took deep, steady breaths. Fuck. I need to get a hold of myself. I need to get my shit together. This was truly ridiculous. Truly fucking ridiculous. Christ. Distantly, I heard Ko's door close, the car purr to life; he must have done that all single-handedly, because throughout this, his hand remained on mine, comforting me – which I was thankful for.

I opened my eyes again, and found him smiling at me. Again. Now that the sun was setting, the light cast mysterious shadows on his face, illuminating each wispy, ivory-coloured strand of hair; my breath caught in my throat as I stared at him, wondering what the hell I did to deserve this – because, Christ, surely I didn't. This guy just pops out of nowhere and offers to take me to his home and calms me down at the drop of a hat. It's just too good to be true. Chewing my lips, I pulled my gaze away. The last thing I wanted to do was weird him out.

“So,” he said, gently, as he turned the radio on. Delicate, dulcet tones emitted from the speakers, as beautiful music began to tinkle away. Somehow it was hopelessly appropriate, and suited him so well, because it was so god damn calming just like him. “I hope you don't mind this, Hinata-kun. I don't like anything loud or noisy, so all my music is rather mundane, but – ah. I'm sure it's better than talking to me though, right?”

“I- no, not at all,” I blundered, wishing that I could successfully refute all of his apologies, but from the various attempts today I realised that such an attempt would be futile. I was biting my lip again, wishing I could communicate how truly grateful I was for all of this, and everything he'd done today, and realise how great he'd been to me. Fat chance of that though.

And as expected, Komaeda simply smiled at me, as if he never even heard my apology. “Well, we should get going before it gets dark,” he said, eyes casting out to the aforementioned sunset outside, as I felt the car starting to reverse out of its position.

And once again. I wondered what the hell I was doing.

**Author's Note:**

> be gentle with criticism i'm weak fuck!!!!!  
> but i hope if ur reading ur enjoying this djbpgjdrfgp


End file.
